had not let her find Ulrich, merely to
take him from her again. The end of danger was to her the beginning of
deliverance. When he recognized her the first time, she already saw
him, leaning on her shoulder, walk through the room; when he could raise
himself, she thought him cured.

Her heart was overflowing with joy, yet her mind remained watchful and
thoughtful during the long, toilsome nursing. She did not forget the
smallest trifle, for before she undertook anything she saw in her mind
every detail involved, as if it were already completed. Ulrich took no
food which she had not prepared with her own hand, no drink which she
had not herself brought from the cellar or the well. She perceived in
advance what disturbed him, what pleased him, what he needed. If she
opened or closed the curtain, she gave or withheld no more light than
was agreeable to him; if she arranged the pillows behind him, she placed
them neither too high nor too low, and bound up his wounds with a gentle
yet firm hand, like an experienced physician. Whatever he felt--pain or
comfort--she experienced with him.

By degrees the fever vanished; consciousness returned, his pain
lessened, he could move himself again, and began to feel stronger. At
first he did not know where he was; then he recognized Ruth, and then
his father.

How still, how dusky, how clean everything that surrounded him was!
Delightful repose stole over him, pleasant weariness soothed every
stormy emotion of his heart. Whenever he opened his eyes, tender,
anxious glances met him. Even when the pain returned he enjoyed
peaceful, consoling mental happiness. Ruth felt this also, and regarded
it as a peerless reward.

When she entered the sick-room with fresh linen, and the odor of
lavender her dead mother had liked floated softly to him from the clean
sheets, he thought his boyhood had returned, and with it the wise,
friendly doctor's house. Elizabeth, the shady pine-woods of his home,
its murmuring brooks and luxuriant meadows, again rose before his
mind; he saw Ruth and himself listening to the birds, picking berries,
gathering flowers, and beseeching beautiful gifts from the "word." His
father appeared even more kind, affectionate, and careful than in those
days. The man became the boy again, and all his former good traits of
character now sprang up freshly under the bright light and vivifying dew
of love.

He received Ruth's unwearied attentions with ardent gratitude, and whe